


A Million Worlds Apart

by Lostxcow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Crime Scenes, Detective Stiles, FBI Agent Derek Hale, Guns, I'll add more along the way, Knives, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), a lot of Criminal Minds inspired chapters, everyone's in the FBI, i just love the show, mention of rape, peter and derek aren't related, so dont complain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostxcow/pseuds/Lostxcow
Summary: When the case John Stilinski has been working on for years comes back up again after his death, Stiles calls the BAU team to help him.or.Basically the Jones episode from Criminal Minds bc JJ and Will are my faves.





	1. Jones

**Author's Note:**

> i've posted and deleted this fic so many times. I'm gonna force myself not to delete it this time.
> 
> WARNING- mention of rape in this chapter.

**2 years ago, Beacon Hills...**

"Are you even listening to me Dad?" Thunder rumbled in the background. It was the biggest storm Beacon Hills had all year. "Grab your wallet and get the hell out of there. The buses are filling up."

"This case is eating at me, Stiles." Detective Stilinski spoke through the phone while rummaging through his case files. The power was out in the house and the only source of light was the millisecond flicker from the lightning striking outside.

"Dad. Forget the damn case."

"What the hell am I missing here?” He rummaged through the files trying to connect the 3 murders to each other. There has been a murderer on the loose for a couple of months and he can’t figure out who the unsub is.

"Dad, people are drowning in their homes. The whole place is gonna be underwater." Stiles pleaded.

Detective Stilinski picked up a crime scene photo of the most recent victim and a letter, "I got another letter, Stiles.” The unsub has been sending him letters after each murder, addressed directly to his name.

"Screw the letter Dad! Forget the serial killer! They're opening up a superdome, I want you to meet me there."

He examined the photo closer and saw the slashing at the wrist of the victim. He whispered, "I'll be damned."

"Please, I'm begging you, Dad." Stiles’ voice was clearly exhausted from trying to take care of his stubborn father.

Detective Stilinski moved around the room, and placed the photo and letter back down. He looked up at the window before another lightning bolt cracked through the sky and a tree came crashing through the window, knocking him down and glass shards scattered everywhere. The entire wall came tumbling down around him as he let out a painful scream.

"Dad? DAD!" Detective Stilinski heard his son’s voice shout through the phone that was now a few feet away from him.

The detective rolled over onto his stomach, letting out short breaths and groaning. His movement was limited as his head was bashed with a tree and a bookcase had fallen on top of him. His hand fumbled around the floor, looking for a glass shard. He picked it up and moved closer to the wooden wall, and with his last few breaths he carefully carved against it.

 -

**Present Day, Washington D.C...**

"We've got a serial killer in Beacon Hills who killed at least 3 men about 2 years ago." Lydia presented in front of the BAU team, "Until now, the Beacon Hills Police Department believed that the serial killer died in a storm that occurred the same year." The 7 team members sat around in the conference room listening to their next case, looking back and forth from the crime scene photos in the presentation and their individual case files in front of them.

"What's happened to tell them otherwise?" Derek took a sip of his coffee.

Lydia held a finger up to him, silencing him, signaling that she wasn’t done and continued presenting the case, "A fourth body was found in an alley last night.” She pressed the button on her remote, showing pictures of the recent murders. “Same M.O.- another male, throat slashed, and eviscerated."

Jackson frowned, "2 years? That's a long cooling-off time period. Are we sure this is the same unsub?"

She shrugged at his question, "He claims to be. He sent a letter to a John Stilinski- the head detective on the case."

Peter took the pen out from his mouth. He had a habit of doing that, "Does Stilinski have any leads?"

"He died in the storm. His uhh…” She read back on the files that were sent to her from the Beacon Hills Police Department, “son is actually leading the case now."

"Hmm. That can't be easy." Isaac frowned looking over the case file. He examined the crime scene photos of the victim's neck slashed and their body position. It didn’t make sense as to why the killer would continue now. Especially after 2 years.

"Well, we need to pour over the evidence from the first 3 murders and determine the pattern." Chris tapped his case file closed and started to stand up.

"The storm washed everything away." Lydia quickly added. Chris furrowed his eyebrows and slowly sat back down, "The 3 victims we know of- their autopsy reports, witness statements, DNA test results… They all got washed away in the storm." Everyone in the room grew silent and had confusion written all over their faces.

"So, basically, all we have to go on is the latest victim?" Scott asked skeptically and eyed around the room, looking at everyone's expressions.

"Yeah." Lydia bit at her bottom lip.

"Until he kills again. Wheel's up in 30." Chris stood up and dismissed everyone from the conference room.

 -

The team boarded the BAU jet and settled in their seats. "Hey guys.” Lydia came up on three screens around the jet. She is the technical analyst for the BAU which meant she stayed in D.C. working on her computer to help with the case. “I just sent you something on your tablets, take a look.” Everyone took out their tablets and opened the pictures on their screen. “These are copies of the newspaper articles on the murders, dating back to early August 2014. It's all we have to go on."

Everyone read over the articles before Chris spoke up, "So he killed 3 times, stopped for 18 months, then he started killing again."

"Lydia run a list of any offenders in the area." Peter crossed his legs and flickered through the articles. “Anyone who spent the last year and a half doing time."

"Or anyone that relocated after that storm and recently moved back." Derek added. Lydia nodded and wished them a good flight before ending the video call.

"So what’s the victimology in killing a mechanic, a real estate broker, and a cook,” Scott counted up with his fingers, “with ages ranging from 22 to 45?"

"And this latest is a 33- year-old taxi driver... They just don't seem to have very much in common." Isaac added as well.

Derek examined the articles closer, "Besides being male and walking around these alleys late at night." He finished Isaac’s statement.

"Which is notorious for teens and adults hiding out behind the alleys- probably doing something illegal." Isaac nodded.

Scott shook his head, "Yeah, but this guy isn't in a rush to flee the scene. A slaughter like this takes time."

Jackson spoke up, "Andrei Chikatilo fantasized that the men he killed were his captives and then torturing and mutilating them somehow made him a hero."

Peter rubbed his hands against his face, "The town's barely back to life. Something like this could cripple its psyche." Beside him, Christ was still carefully examining the crime scene photos and the newspaper articles.

"So where do we start?" Isaac asked with a shrug of his shoulder.

Chris looked up, "Well, with no case file there's only one place we can start.” Everyone looked over at him. “At square one."

 -

Stiles zipped up his hoodie, "You must be the BAU." Derek, Peter and Jackson crossed under the police tape around the crime scene. Stiles reached out to shake their hands, "Stiles Stilinski."

"Hello. Derek Hale. We spoke on the phone." Derek gave Stiles’ hand a firm smile and handshake before letting go.

Stiles eyed him up and down and smirked, "Well ok then." Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "I pictured you different." He shrugged.

Derek rose an eyebrow but brushed it off. Stiles seemed too young to be a detective but he didn’t say anything about it, "Uh, these are Agents Peter and Jackson." He turned around to look at the two men who nodded in response, "This is Detective Stiles Stilinski."

Stiles shook Peter's hand, "Appreciate you guys being here.” Then moved onto shake Jackson. “My dad was too stubborn to ever ask for any help."

"Sorry for your loss." Peter said and the other two nodded their heads, "I understand you received a letter."

 Stiles nodded and pulled out a ziplock bag containing a letter from his hoodie pocket, "Yeah, before they were lost in that hell of a storm, my dad received 2 letters." He handed the bag over to Peter. "This one came addressed to him yesterday. They passed it on to me." 

The three men read over the letter. "Are you sure it's from the same killer?" Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged, "I mean it’s a detailed account of what he did to the body. It's most likely from him."

Before Derek could say anything back he got a phone call from Isaac, “You’re on speaker.”

“Ok so- the victim had no defense wounds which most likely means this was a blitz attack. They had no hesitation marks, cuts were methodical. Pathologist guesses the unsub was taught how to do this.”

"So you think he might have some medical training?" Peter asked.

"How else could he carve around every organ and leave each one intact?" Scott spoke through the phone.

"Have any of his relatives come to claim the body? Anyone we could speak with?" Stiles spoke up. 

“No, pathologist says he’s just gonna keep the ashes in storage.” 

“Alright thanks Isaac call me when you have any more info.” Derek hung up.

During the call, Jackson roamed around the area examining behind dumpsters, and behind any nooks and crannies in the area, "It'd be pretty easy to hide out here and wait for the victim without ever being seen."

Stiles replied, "Yeah, all 4 murders occurred within a 10-block radius here inside these alleys."

 Derek spoke up, "On any given night, there'd have to be a lot of people passing through here, especially teens."

"A whole bunch of teens.” Stiles nodded, “When I first started as a cop, I worked these buildings. It's like being in the riot squad every night. Every Sunday I'd get off work around sunrise, I'm ready to pass out, and my Dad would be waiting for me at my house." Stiles smiled at the memory, "He'd make me drive him uptown to Frankie and Johnny's for a drink even though he know I won’t let him.” He looked Derek, “He figured it was worth a shot- ‘ya know?" 

Derek replied with a small smile.

“Did your father tell you anything else about this case that we should know?” Peter asked while taking off his gloves and putting them into his back pocket. 

“He tried to.” Stiles moves his way to cross under the police tape. “But I think you guys should see that for yourself.” He lifts the tape up for the other three men to go under.

-

Stiles led them through the debris left over of his childhood home into where the living room used to stand. One side of the room was completely gone and the room was completely covered in dirt, branches, and broken furniture.

Stiles points to the wall next to the entrance, “This wall is still standing where my dad carved out this message- right before he died.” The three men carefully entered the room, stepping around the cracks in the floorboard. “There’s no doubt he’s still working from the grave.”

“Jones.” Jackson whispered under his breath, reading the carving. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Stiles stared blankly at the carving and shook his head, “No. I ran it through every database against every offender in Beacon Hills. And you can imagine how many hits I’ve got.” Stiles gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh. His face faltered after a second, “But nothing came up in connection with this case.”

“But in your dad’s last moments, it was the most important thing he wanted to say.” Derek pointed out.

Stiles looked up and walked around the room in the areas where he could, looking out the giant opening in his living room, “You know, I learned how to play the drums in this house, grew up with my dad and 2 dogs.” Stiles felt nostalgic. He didn’t know why he was sharing this with a bunch of strangers but it felt okay, “Now all it’s gonna have is the word ‘Jones’ carved into that wall.”

“Detective,” Jackson spoke and Stiles turned around to face him “if your dad wrote down a name, I think we would’ve found them by now. ‘Jones’ is the one piece of this puzzle that your dad _did_ know. He trusted you to figure out the rest.”

“Yeah I know that.” Stiles frowned and sat down on one of the dusty arm chairs. He leaned forward, leaning his elbow on his lower thigh and bounced his leg up and down. He looked down and took a deep breath before looking back up, “I went over it about a thousand times and I still can’t put it together. I-I I can’t get it out of my head-”

He didn’t even realize Derek was behind him until he felt a hand on his shoulder, “You okay?”

He turned around and gave a small nod and weak smile, “Yeah.. I just don’t want to disappoint him.” Stiles stood up and left the room, Derek staring at him as he left.

 -

“Is that the letter from the unsub?” Scott came into the police station with Isaac following closely behind him.

“Yeah.” Chris turned around and looked back at the board. It was a clear board that Stiles provided them with the letters and crime photos stuck all around it. “‘I am back with a vengeance. I wanted you to know. The last guy made it so easy, being out so late, stumbling home drunk. I enjoyed slicing around his organs. I thought about sending you one. He was asking to be ripped, don’t you think, Boss? Yours truly’” Chris read the letter out loud and looked back at Scott and Isaac.

Isaac and Scott read over the letter one more time before Isaac spoke up, “To say that the victims were asking to be killed denies all culpability. Most sexual sadists rationalize their own behavior by blaming their victims like that.”

Scott turned to look at Isaac before shaking his head, “But there was no sign of sexual assault in the autopsy. He could be a homosexual male stabbing because he needs violence for arousal.”

“Every kill he’s acting out a fantasy for revenge.” Chris mutters under his breath.

“What if he’s trying to act out something else?” Isaac whispers.

“What?”

“Except for the victims were men, it’s the same M.O.” Isaac’s eyes widen as he grabs a marker and starts writing on the board.

“What are you talking about?”

He continued writing, “All 4 victims were found with their throats slashed, eviscerated, and the murders perpetrated in semi-public places after dark. Investigators taunted with the letters addressed to ‘Boss’.” He stepped away from the board and put down the marker. “The only difference is that case was 100 years ago and the murders took place in London.”

Scott and Chris read Isaac’s writing on the board. He connected the crime scene photos and every ‘Boss’ in letters. Scott’s eyes widened. “Jack the Ripper.”

Chris huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “And this unsub wants us to think he’s the modern-day version loose in Beacon Hills.”

  
-

Another body laid cold in the alley. Throat slashed, body covered in cuts, and left for dead.

“So the 3 of you were out together last night?” Isaac asked the victim’s friends.

One of them nods, “Mark had just paid his tab at one bar and he was on his way to meet us at another.”

“Get into any trouble?” Jackson stood there with his arms across his chest. “Drunken brawl? Anybody get out of hand?”

The other friend shook his head, “We were just out to have fun, you know? Minded our own business.”

“Could he have met a girl? Maybe upset her boyfriend?”

They shake their heads, “No sir. He struck out like we all did.”

“Alright thanks guys.” Jackson dismissed them and watched them walk away.

Stiles stood there, staring at the body. He slightly shook his head and let out a breath before looking up, “Getting hard to keep up with this guy.”

Scott shrugged, “Well, if he’s mimicking Jack the Ripper, that might be precisely the point. He terrorized London for months without ever getting caught.”

Peter crouched down and carefully examined the body himself. He looked up at Stiles, “I’d appreciate it if you’d gather your men.” Stiles gave him a questioning look, “We’d like to give you a profile about who you’re up against.”

-

“The offender we’re looking for is friendly, agile, somewhere between 30 and 35.” Chris informed. Everyone was gathered in the conference room at the Beacon Hills Police Department and police officers were taking notes. “He’ll allure with charm and kill with rage.”

Scott continued, “We believe he’s murdering men to reclaim his power. This unsub suffers from low- self esteem, but he probably covers it well.”

Stiles had a hard look on his face as Isaac spoke, “He dresses impeccably well to feed the facade. Jack the Ripper himself was an impetuous lust murderer, whereas this offender is organized, calculating. He might even stalk his victims for days before the actual kill.”

It was Peter’s turn to continue their analysis, “We believe this killer identifies with Jack the Ripper because he’s lost his own identity. Maybe through years of child abuse or some catastrophic event.”

Chris concluded, “Because he over compensates to hide his insecurities, we believe he may hold a position of authority at work. And since we think he’s had medical training, consider EMTs, doctors, veterinarians. Please be careful. For this unsub, the alleys are a hunting ground.” Chris scoffed, “He’s certainly already proven he knows the terrain.”  


-

Scott and Peter sat in the conference room going over the case files and adding to it once more. The ringing of Scott’s phone startled him for a second before he answered. “McCall.”

Lydia’s voice rang through the phone, “What was the thing Jack the Ripper took from one of his victims? Besides, you know, her life?”

“Oh- uhh-umm-”

Lydia hummed, “Tick- tock. Tick- tock.”

Scott threw his free arm in the air, “I don’t know.” Peter rose his eyebrow at him which Scott waved off.

He could hear the smirk in her voice, “A kidney. How horrifyingly fantastic is that?”

“Mhmm.. Are you going anywhere with this?”

“Just that I found an unsolved murder that happened 4 months ago in Galveston, Texas, with the same M.O.” Scott scrambled to find a notepad and pen as she continued, “The victim missing that. very. organ.” Lydia smiled, “I amaze myself.”

Scott wrote down the information and chuckled, “Yeah, me too. Great work.” And he hung up the call.

Peter put down the newspaper he was reading about the murder, “What’s that?”

“Lydia found a similar case in Galveston, Texas.”

Peter leaned forward with his eyebrows scrunched up and nodded, “Yeah, a lot of the storm refugees relocated there.”

“It could be the same guy. He removed the kidney just like Jack the Ripper.”

-  


Stiles thanked the bartender for the beers and returned back to the booth where he and Derek were sitting. “It’s not right.” He said as he slid into the booth. “These bars and shops are the only parts of this town that dodged the storm. And now there’s a serial killer loose.”

Derek took a sip of his beer, “It’s a small area, and we’re narrowing down the profile.” He attempted to give Stiles a reassuring smile which looked more like a grimace, “We’ll find him.”

Stiles huffed and took a sip of his beer, “So, where are you from?”

“New York.”

“Country or city?”

“Country”

“Are you by any chance gay?” Stiles took a hopeful shot.

Derek seemed startled by the question but then chuckles, “Bi.”

Stiles hummed in reply and took another sip, “I hate that this guy has a leg up on us, you know?”

“I promise, as soon as my team knows anything, we’ll hear. Okay?” Stiles gave a nod in response.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Stiles spoke up again, “Why aren’t you married?” He knew it was a very personal question but hey, he’s probably never gonna see this guy again- It doesn’t hurt to ask.

Derek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then furrowed again into his grouchy look, “And that involves this case, how?”

Stiles stared at him and shrugged, “It doesn’t.” He took a sip of his beer, “I’m just flirting.” Derek sat there speechless for a moment. Stiles looked down at his hands and a frown appeared on his face, “That was unprofessional. You don’t have to answer that, sorry.”

Derek looked to around the booth as the atmosphere in the booth got a little stuffy for him. Stiles kept drinking his beer, taking little sips at a time just in case they had to go back in for another murder.

“Excuse me.” A waitress came up to their booth and placed down a wine glass in front of Derek, “Compliments from the woman in the blue top.” They both turned their heads to the crowd and saw the woman giving a slight wave with a flirtatious smile. Derek blinked and turned back to look at Stiles.

Stiles turned back and scoffed. Jealousy rose into Stiles’ stomach, which he stuffed back down because why should he be jealous? He’s only known this guy for a day, “That was.. Bold..”

“Well, she might have just thought we were working.” Derek nods his head over to the case folder next to him. Stiles huffed in response and sipped his beer. “Are you jealous?” Derek smirked.

Stiles let out a scoff/ laugh, “No. I just-” he looked back at the woman and back at Derek, “I- I’m surprised that’s all.”

Derek let out a small laugh and a genuine smile that caught Stiles off-guard, “And you’re a lousy liar.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile back and slightly punch Derek on the arm, “Fuck off.”

-

Jackson and Scott sat in the car, parked in front of a bar on Main. “Each of the last 2 victims were traveling in a group.” Scott wanted to go over the info once more. “Both were drinking, both in public arenas, bar-hopping. So, how could their friends not see anything?”

Jackson tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before he spoke up, “It’s like when a lion preys upon an antelope.”

Scott furrowed his eyebrows, “You lost me.”

Jackson turns his head to look at Scott and laughed, “That’s because you, Scott McCall, have never been one of the antelope.”

Scott tilted his head, “Scratch that. You totally lost me.”

“Ok. Check this out.” Jackson took a moment to sort out his thoughts. “The antelope travel in packs. So the lion, sits and waits.” Scott nodded, “Waits for one of the antelope to break away from the herd. So when he’s alone, vulnerable, and completely unprotected, that’s when the lion strikes. That’s when she makes her move.”

“Wait a minute. _Her_ move?”

“Scott. There’s only one thing that’s gonna make a straight man leave his friends on a guys night out. And it’ll make him leave every time.”

Scott’s mouth fell open at the explanation, “A woman.”

-

“Hey.” Derek said as Stiles walked towards him in the police department the next day.

Stiles jerked his chin up in response and continued walking, Derek following behind him. “So I alerted and updated the bolo.”

“Good. We need to set up a press conference.”

“We’re not making a media spectacle out of this.”

“People need to know that this killer is a woman.”

Stiles stopped walking and turned around to face Derek. “Listen. Tourists and residents are just starting to filter back here.”

“That’s not the issue.” Derek shot back.

Stiles licked his lips and took a step forward, and said in a hushed, “I can’t create mass hysteria in a town that’s trying to rebuild.” Derek opened his mouth to reply but Stiles cut him off, “Besides, we’ll be playing right into her hands.”

“So be it.” Stiles glared at Derek who sighed and looked down and back up, “Look -I’m trying not to go over your head here.” there was a silent “being in the FBI and all….” that followed without it being said.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Yeah. I got that.”

“Then set up that press conference.” Stiles nodded.

“There’s been another body.” One of the deputy’s announced while holding the phone his hand.

“Shit.”

-

“Throat’s been slashed. Disemboweled too.” Jackson examined the dead body with his gloves.

Peter crouched down next to him as well, “Reeks of booze. This is more than a pattern.”

“Only this time, she cut off the earlobe.”

“She’s sticking to the Ripper’s paradigm.” Isaac examined from afar.

“What do you mean?” Jackson asks, letting go of the victim’s hands.

“In one letter of correspondence, the Ripper promised to cut the earlobe off of his next victim.” Isaac explained, “He did. And it was the one day he killed twice.”

Peter stood up and dusted off his pants, “So she’s gonna kill again by the end of the day.”

“OK. What do we know about female serial killers?” Scott asked. He was trying to narrow down the list of potential unsubs.

“Basically you have 2 types.” Peter said, “The Sante Kimes Model. Cold, calculating, preys on men for money, takes her time building relationships.”

“It’s more likely we’re dealing with the Aileen Wuornos Archetype.” Isaac explained, “Motivated by paranoia and fear, luring men with sex.”

“Our unsub’s organized. She follows a routine. She meets men in a bar, flirts with them over drinks, then suggest that they consummate the evening in an alley.” Jackson theorizes.

Stiles walked up to the 4 men hurdling the body, “My officer just brought me these.” He held up a plastic zip-lock bag with a letter in it.

Scott took it from him and read it outloud, “Dear Boss, by now I have rid the world of one more. So many men, so little time. I hope you don’t mind the mess. They make it so easy, I just can’t help myself. Yours truly,”

-

“And she’s true to her word.” Scott crosses under the police tape and walks towards another body in an alley. The entire team went to a party last night trying to look for the unsub but ended up with nothing until this morning. “She’s mocking us.”

Isaac put on his latex gloves and crouched towards the body. His eyes squint when his examination reaches the face, “Do you have any tweezers?” he asked one of the deputies. He hand him one which he thanked for and looked back at the body. The victim’s mouth was slightly opened with something inside of it. Isaac took the tweezers and slowly pulled it out of his mouth.

“What is that?” Derek asked, disgusted.

“I have no idea.” He unfolded the paper. “It’s a note from the unsub.” He looked up at Stiles, “Addressed to your father.”

“Let’s see it.” Peter said. Isaac nodded and handed the note over to him. “Dear Boss, he wanted it, with that sharp tongue and vulgar hand. Thought you’d like to know, another will soon get what he deserves. Yours Truly.”

Stiles’ jaw clenched and unclenched when Isaac spoke again, “Well that’s weird. Typically, offenders write letters to be heard. Jack the Ripper bragged about not being caught. This unsub isn’t using correspondence to flaunt her latest kill, only to explain why she did it.”

“It’s possible she considers herself as a vigilante.” Scott said. “The men she’s killing deserved to die.”

“Or maybe she’s contacting your father, not because he was a lead detective on the case but…” Peter suggested, “Because she believes he’ll understand.”

“You think he knew her somehow?” Stiles was confused.

“Can you think of a woman in your dad’s life he helped through a tough time?” Derek asked. “Might be another police officer, I don’t know, a prostitute he helped get off the street?” Isaac added.

Stiles shook his head, “No, he hasn’t dealt with prostitutes since he’s worked sex crimes.”

Isaac’s face scrunched up in concentration. He started mumbling to himself before repeating it louder, “The unsub wrote, ‘he was asking to be ripped, I just couldn’t help myself, and he wanted it.’ What if she’s mirroring the man who raped her?”

Peter quickly turned to Stiles, “Where are the files stored from your sex crime division?”

“They were housed in the same place as homicide. Most of it washed away.” Stiles says regrettably. Beacon Hills was late to the whole technology trend.

“Did your dad have a partner?” Derek asked.

“Yeah. J.R. Smith.”

“He might remember something.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced, “But they had a falling out.” Stiles can remember his dad drinking heavily for a couple of nights and Smith stopped coming over for family dinners. He remembers they used to be close, so his dad had a tough time.

“What about?” Isaac asked.

“I don’t know. They stopped talking when my dad left sex crimes; and that was 9 years ago.” Stiles frowned, “The guy didn’t even come to my dad’s funeral. So...”

Peter shrugged, “Do you have a problem calling him?”

“Not if it means breaking this case.” Stiles looked down at the body. He noticed something strange and squinted. He grabbed the victim’s hand and pulled it out from underneath the body. There was a black stamp on it. “I’ll be damned.” Stiles cursed and stood up.

“What is it?” Scott asked.

“The stamp on the victim’s hand- It’s admittance into the Mon Cherie. It’s a bar near here.” Everyone had confusion written on their faces. Stiles sighed and wiped the back of his hand on his forehead, “9 years ago it was called Jones.”

“Bingo.” Peter smirked, “Get Lydia on the phone.”

Derek pulls out his phone and dials. “Finally! A call! Give me something good.” Lydia groaned through the phone.

Derek chuckled, “Is there any newspaper reports about a rape at a bar called Jones?” There was faint tapping before Lydia denied the search. “You sure? It would’ve been about 9 years ago.”

“Nada.”

“Ok uh.” Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Think Derek, think._ “Cross reference John Stilinski with Jones Bar.”

More tapping was heard, “Bulls-eye.” Derek sighed in relief, “Police blotter- answered a disturbance at Jones Bar. March 19, 2007.”

“Thanks Lyds.”

“Wait- That’s all?” Lydia groaned. “I’ve done nothing this entire case. I’m bored over here. I have needs.”

Derek chuckled, “Sorrys Lyds, maybe next time.”

-

Stiles walked into Mon Cherie and looked around for his dad’s old partner. “Smitty,” Stiles walked up to him in the corner of the bar and stook out his hand for him to shake, “how are you?”

Smitty glared at him and ignored the handshake, “I hope you got a good reason dredging this crap up.” Stiles lowered his hand back to his side.

Stiles looked over at Derek, Peter and Scott. “W-Well I was hoping you’d remember being called here with my dad 9 years ago.”

If it was possible, his glare turned colder, “Is that a joke?”

“No.” Stiles looked down and softly replied. He didn’t know why he was acting like this. Why is Stiles so afraid of this man? The man that used to give him little gifts when he came over for dinner.

Peter cleared his throat, “My name’s Peter Brown we’re with the FBI. We’re investigating a series of murders in Beacon Hills.”

Smitty looked at Derek and Scott and shrugged, “What’s that gotta do with me?”

“We need you to tell us what happened on the night you and Detective Stilinski answer a call in this bar.” Scott answered.

Smitty turned his glare at Stiles once again. Stiles found the courage to glare back. He harshly snapped, “Am I missing something? Why the hell are you glaring at me.”

“You really don’t know do ‘ya?” Smitty scoffed, “After that night, your dad tried to bring me up on sanctions.”

“Why?”

“It was Spring Break for college students. Some girl claimed that she was raped in this bar.” Smitty frowned, “I wasn’t buying it.”

“What did she say happened to her?” Derek scowled at the sick man in front of him.

He ignored him and continued to glare at Stiles, “Brass backed me up. They ended up transferring your dad out to shut him up.”

“What happened here?” Derek demanded. He didn’t like being ignored, especially by this scum.

“It almost cost me my career.” He ignore Derek once more.  
Peter barked, “Do you mind telling us what happened?” He was getting sick of him and his patience was running low.

Smitty tilted his head at him, “My best recollection, she said she was sitting at the bar with 2 friends. One of the boys asked her to play pool. Witnesses claim she was up for anything.”

“She followed them up here?” Scott pointed towards the staircase behind a few tables down.

“His friend not far behind. She knew he was there.” Smitty replied, “That girl was a tease. She was looking for a good time. Anyway, a couple of guys were going along with that.”

“Did she yell out for help?”

“She said she did. But not a single person claims that they heard her.”

Derek slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “That’s what you registered as a disturbance?”

Smitty glared at him, “It was Spring Break. Listen to me. That girl had enough beads hanging from her neck to jewel a small city. Anyone exposes that much in one day is not a credible witness in my book.”

“But she wanted to press charges.” Stiles scowled.

“I told her it was a waste of time.” Smitty smirked, “I knew one of the accused. He was a good kid. He didn’t need the stink of that accusation.”

Everyone felt disgusted. Stiles especially felt like he needed a burning hot shower to scrub off the way he felt. Scott and Derek were so furious everyone could see the steam coming out of their ears. But, they stayed silent as they needed Smitty to finalize the case. Peter slowly made his way over and slid into the chair in front of Smitty. “So you protected a rapist?” His tone of voice was very judgemental. It was like the tone of voice a mother uses when they’re mad but don’t yell.

Smitty scoffed, “Now that right there,” he points to Peter then at Stiles, “was a bone of contention between his daddy and I. As far as I was concerned, no such rape ever took place.” Smitty turned to Stiles once again, “Now you wanna tell me why you went and dragged this dirt back through my life?”

Peter tilted his head and replied with venom in his voice, “You know the serial killer who’s cutting up men in Beacon Hills?” Smitty stared at him, “She was your victim, and we’re trying to find a name.”

Scott stepped towards Smitty when he didn’t reply after a few moments. Scott’s voice almost sounded non-human as he gritted out, “You don’t even remember her name?”

“It was 9 years ago?”

Derek folded his arms across his chest and gave him a deathly glare, “What about the ‘good kid’ that raped her?” Smitty stayed silent before licking his lips and looking in the other direction.

Stiles stepped really close to Smitty until he was face to face with him, losing all of his patience, “Smitty. You better fucking tell me right now or I’ll file a new sanction against you, and I will guarantee you, so help me God, that it’ll stick this time.”

Smitty sucked in his lips and muttered, “James Tibideaux.”

-

“Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer a few questions about a disturbance you were involved in 2007.” Scott brought in James Tibideaux to the prosecution room after Smitty told them his name.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He shrugged with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“At a bar called Jones.” Derek glared. “Spring Break, 2007.”

James snorted, “Well, then, I must’ve been drinking some, cause I don’t remember a thing.”

“We just need to know the name of your accuser.” Scott leaned forward.

James glared at him, “Look, I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh of frustration, “The statute of limitations is up. We just- need a name.”

Scott took a seat in front of James, “Someone accuses me of rape, I’m gonna remember her name.” He taunts.

“What did I tell you man? I guess she didn’t make that good of an impression.” He spits back.

“Unlike yourself. Right now.” Scott smirks.

“You know,” James leaned in closer to Scott, “I’m guessing if someone did do something to that girl that night, then she was probably asking for it. Maybe, even liked it.” Scott slammed his hands on the table and gripped onto the collar of James’ shirt, clenched his hands into a tight fist, ready to punch him.

“Scott! Scott!” Derek quickly reacted and tried to pry him away. “Someone get him out of here!” He yelled through the glass. Chris and Jackson run in and grabbed Scott, dragging him out of the room while he screamed at James. The entire time James cackled like a maniac.

“He’s not giving up anything.” Stiles sighed from behind the glass window and walked away.

“Isaac, after the double murder, what was the Ripper’s next move?” Peter asked. Isaac knew the Jack Ripper case inside out.

“He mutilated and dismembered Mary Kelly in her one room flat until she was unrecognizable. It’s believed to be his most vicious kill of all.”

“Cause he had privacy.” Peter added, not taking his eyes off of James. “And time to torture his victim before killing her. Maybe we’re not too late.”

Derek pulled out the crime scene photos from the case file. He laid them out in front of James, “She murdered all of these men,” James’ eyes widened at the photos, “And I’m guessing, it’s only a matter of time before she works her way back to the one she really wants to kill.” James’ head jerked up with wide eyes. Derek bores his eyes into James’, “She make an impression now?”

 -

“YES! Work me.” Lydia screeched through the phone.

“We have a name- Sarah Dalin- I need an address.” Derek spoke through the phone.

“1141 Sherman Avenue.” Lydia replied, “It looks like she was a Med. student at Tulane, but she dropped out.” Derek scribbled the information on a notepad. Stiles walked up behind Derek and looked over at what he was writing.

“Let me guess, after Spring Break in 2007.”

“Yeah.” She softly replied. “Wait- Sarah’s visa was just charged and hour ago at the Royal Ruby Inn.”

“Thanks.” He turned to Stiles and held up the notepad, “We got her.”

-

Chris burst through the door and held up his gun. Jackson, Isaac, Scott, Derek, Stiles, and Peter filed in the room holding their gun up at Sarah. There was a bawling man tied to a bed with a few cuts and she was sitting on top of him with a knife in her hand. “Drop the knife.”

“He wanted it. And he got it.” Sarah grit out from her teeth.

“Put it down, now.” Jackson warned.

Chris spoke through the walkie talkie, “We need an EMT tech right away.”

Sarah slowly turned around to face Jackson. Her eyes were bulging wide and she was shaking hysteria, “What are you waiting for?”

“Ma’am we don’t want to shoot you.” Jackson assured.

Sarah’s eyes filled with rage and tears, “Be such a shame to waste this? Do you want it too?”

“What I want is for you to put that knife down.” He carefully said.

“Come on. Don’t fight it.” She choked out.

“Sarah, we don’t want to hurt you.” Jackson repeats.

Sarah turned back to the man on the bed, “Men.”

Stiles puts down his gun on the floor and raises his hands up to show he wasn’t carrying anything, “Sarah, my name’s Stiles Stilinski.” Sarah froze and her eyes twitched, “You knew my dad?” He carefully made his way towards Sarah and put his hands down, “Hey there. You trusted him, so now trust me.”

Sarah slowly turned her head to Stiles, “Where is he?” She weakly cried out.

“The storm took him.”

A tear dripped down Sarah’s cheek and her face faltered. “Come on now, it’s over.” He reached out to Sarah and took the knife away as she let go. “It’s over.” He whispered and helped her off the bed. She continued crying and wiping her tears away. The agents dropped their guns and rushed over to help the man get untied from the bed.

He was carried out by the paramedics on a gurney, on his way to the ambulance. Sarah was placed in a police car after her crying had calmed down. Stiles leaned against another police car, staring at the ground. He didn’t notice Derek approaching him as he was so lost in his thoughts. Derek stood next to him and leaned against the car as well.

“Hey.” He said in a soft voice.

Stiles turned to Derek, giving him a small smile, “Hey there.”

“The medic says that our victim’s gonna be ok.” Derek jerks his head towards the ambulance. All he gets is a nod from Stiles as a response. “I saw what you did in there.” Stiles turns to look at him, “Your dad would be really proud.”

Stiles gives a small smile and looks forward, breathing in the fresh air, “It’s weird. I spent all this time focused on closing this case for him… And now it’s over.”

“Yeah.” Derek nods.

“I thought I’d be happy but right now I just feel lost.”

Derek shrugged, “Because you just gotta move on.”

Stiles smiles, “And now you’re leaving.” Derek tilts his head like a confused puppy, “How will I survive with a man like you going all the way across the country?”

Derek breaks out a small chuckle and a smile, “Well, I’m only a cell phone call away” Derek handed him a card with his number written on it. Stiles looked at the card and gave a huge smile and hugged him. Derek whispered, “I have to go now.”

They pull apart and Stiles gives Derek a small smile as he watches him hop into the FBI van and drive off down the road. He looks down at the card before sticking it in his wallet and hopping into the car and driving away from the Inn.


	2. Peace and Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a day off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kinda boring and cliche but hey- that's what fanfics are all about. Let your imagination go wild. And the last chapter had some dark stuff so here's something to lighten to mood.

2 weeks later, Derek finally has 2 days off from work. He and Stiles have been texting back and forth everyday ever since the Jones case in Beacon Hills. It was sometimes just a simple ‘good morning’ and a ‘good night’ as Derek was always so busy with cases. Other times it was Stiles being Stiles, and texting while he was working. They had gotten to know each other well over text and occasional calls and facetime chats. 

Like Derek figured out Stiles was obsessed with Marvel, loved to cook, his car’s name is Roscoe and he had it since he was 16, hated dressing up for work, and disliked soccer moms that complained about everything in the supermarket. Derek is exhausted after the most recent case in Pennsylvania, which took 5 days to solve. The unsub kidnapped children in public and hid them deep into woods. The recent victim was returned to their family all safe and sound, but the unsub got away. Still a victory in his book. Most children don’t make it past 24 hours. 

Usually, for his days off, he stays home and never leaves the house. Just sleeps all day. But this time, he arranges to fly down to Beacon Hills and pay Stiles a visit. He gets off the plane and looks around for Stiles. Derek’s heart begins to race a tiny bit when he spots him. He is sitting in one of the seats, speaking on the phone. Derek makes his way over to Stiles, carrying his carry-on, heart still beating a little too hard for his liking. This never happened to him before, not even with his previous girlfriend, Kate. 

Stiles sees Derek make his way over him which makes him end the call and stands up to hug him. “Hey Derek! How’s your flight?”

“Fine.” He mumbles and steps away after the hug. His cheeks starts to heat up for unknown reasons so he looks away.

“Well c’mon Derek-” Stiles still has a smile on his face, “Let’s go get your bags.” 

-

“Welcome to my home!” Stiles opens the door and drops his jacket to the side, “You can just drop your stuff off in my room- down the hallway and to your left.” Derek gives him a nod and makes his way to the room. The entire house smells like Stiles- which makes Derek happy. It gave a sense of comfort to him. 

He drops his bag off in his room and goes back out. “In here Derek!” Stiles calls from the kitchen. “You must be starving after flying for so long.” He walks into the kitchen and sees Stiles wearing an apron while cooking spaghetti. Derek raises one eyebrow in amusement and sits down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “I hope you like spaghetti, cause if you don’t then you’ll love mine.” Stiles says and starts making the spaghetti. He picks up the plate and places it on the counter. “Enjoy.” He smiles and takes off his apron. 

Derek picks up the fork that was placed in on the plate and starts eating.  _ Holy shit this is good.  _ He thinks as his eyes widens. “Good right?” Stiles smirks and picks up a strand of noodle from Derek’s plate and eats it. Derek gives him a glare and moves his plate away from Stiles which makes Stiles chuckle. 

“When did you learn how to cook?” Derek asks. He’s constantly eating out or take out back in DC so he was curious. 

“I had to learn how to cook since both my parents died.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek’s face softens. 

Stiles waves him off, “Don’t be, it’s alright. I still miss them, but ‘ya know. Life goes on or whatever they say.” Stiles takes a seat next to Derek and watches him eat. Not in the creepy way. Well, not creepy for Stiles at least. “I thought today we’d just chill here- seeing how you already saw the town when you came last time.” Stiles says after a few moments of silence. Derek gives a nod in response. “You don’t talk much, do you?” Stiles gives a little laugh, which Derek responds with a glare but cheeks tinted pink. “It’s cool, I can talk enough for the both of us anyways.” 

-

Derek finishes after a while and puts his plate away. He insists on washing it but Stiles argues that it’s fine and he’ll do it later. They sit in the living room and watch the new season of Daredevil on the tv. Derek listens to Stiles rant about how the fight scene at the train tracks with Elektra&Daredevil vs. the ninjas, is horribly filmed. Derek’s face fills with amusement as they continue to watch the show and Stiles yells at the tv a few more times. After 2 more hours of the show, Stiles pauses the tv and stands up to stretch. “Wanna help me make dinner?” 

Stiles takes out the ingredients to make stuffed chicken breasts cordon bleu and hands Derek an apron that is pink with white polka dots. Derek raises an eyebrow to say,  _ you want me to put this on?  _ Stiles flashes him an innocent smile and turns to cut the chicken breasts in half. Derek sighs and puts on the apron and picks up the cheese to grate it. Stiles peeps his eyes to the side to see the apron on Derek and drops to the floor laughing. “I need to take a picture of this.” Stiles says between laughs and pulls out his phone. Derek is glaring at him the entire time and reaches to take it off. “No!” Stiles springs up and grabs his hand, “Don’t. You look cute.” Derek flushes to a rosy color as Stiles snaps a picture of him and smiles. “I’m keeping this forever.” Derek growls at him and resumes grating the cheese, a little bit more harsher than before. He calms down after hearing Stiles apologize and giving a small giggle. A giggle. It was too cute to stay mad at, but Derek would never say that outloud. 

They continue to cook and eat in silence, Stiles making small conversation here and there. 

“So Derek, how’d your recent case go?” Stiles asks while taking a bite of chicken. Another well made dish, but it tastes better to Stiles since he actually made it with someone else. He doesn’t get to do that very often.

Derek shrugs, “We profiled him as a man who was isolated from society for a long time, seeming as he lived in the woods.” This surprises Stiles as this is the most Derek spoke all day. He continues, “He took 2 kids from their parents while they were camping. Son and daughter. We expected him to dispose of the girl as he typically kidnapped boys- but he didn’t which allowed us to get both children back to their parents safely. But the unsub got away.” 

Stiles lets out a breath, “Damn. Scary shit.” Another minute of silence. “You seem to love your job.” Stiles says, which catches Derek by surprise this time. 

“Sorry?” Derek puts down his fork and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Stiles shrugs, “That was the most you’ve talked all day, which means you liked that topic.”

Derek smirks, “And I thought I was the profiler here.”

Stiles lets out a laugh, “I have my moments.”

-

They begin to put the plates in the sink after having a fulfilling dinner. This time Stiles allows Derek to help wash the dishes. “I’ll wash the dishes and hand them to you. You dry them and put them on the rack ok?” Derek gives him a nod and Stiles begins to wash the dishes. After 2 dishes, Stiles picks up a spoon and puts it under the water, towards Derek’s direction, which sprays water all over him. Derek yelps and jumps back with a surprised look on his face. Stiles bursts out laughing and drops the spoon back into the sink. Derek playfully glared at him and walks over to the sink. He cups his hands to fill with water and splashes Stiles’ shirt. Stiles squeaks and jumps back as well. Derek breaks  out into a smile. Stiles has an equally playful glare and splashes Derek back. They continue splashing back and forth, spilling water everywhere. They are soaking wet neither seem to care so they continue anyways, laughing together with the biggest smiles on their faces. Stiles reaches out to splash Derek one more time until he slips and crashes into Derek, making them collapse onto the floor. They crash together laughing, with Stiles laying on top of Derek. Stiles sits up on top of Derek’s chest, with his legs to the side. 

Their laughter dies down and Stiles’ eyes flickers to Derek’s lips; Derek’s eyes doing the same to Stiles. They meet eye-to-eye before Derek quickly sits up and connects their lips together. The water still runs in the background as they continue kissing. Stiles parts his lips a little bit, which allows Derek to slip his tongue in. They continue to make-out, both out of breath but not wanting to stop. They break apart after a while, trying to catch their breaths. Their faces flush bright red and they're panting. 

Stiles gives him a peck on the lips once more before standing up and helping Derek up as well. He shuts off the faucet, because you know, the drought. Conserve water, and turns around to kiss Derek again. Derek stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall. “Bedroom.” Stiles breaks the kiss and whispers. Derek nods quickly and Stiles leads him upstairs to his room. He pushes Derek towards the bed before shutting the door and walks towards him. Derek sits there, panting and eyeing up and down hungrily at Stiles. Stiles connects their lips once again, and Derek slowly lays his back down on the bed. Stiles and Derek break apart to quickly get undressed, only in their boxers. 

Both men are fully hard by now. Stiles climbs on top of the bed and reaches to pull Derek’s boxers down. “Can I blow you?” Stiles looks up at Derek. Derek looks down and moaned. Stiles’ lips are bright pink from making out and his face is near his crotch. Derek quickly nods and he bit down on his lip as Stiles pulls down his boxers and grasps his dick. Derek’s hips raises up as he groans. Stiles places his hand on his hips to set him back down. He licks the top of Derek’s dick, causing both men to moan. Stiles continues licking the top of Derek’s penis like a lollipop before Derek growls his name. He needs more. 

Stiles shushes him and takes in more of his dick. Derek grasps onto the bed sheets and lets out a moan, followed by Stiles’ name. Stiles continues to suck him off, his hand pumping the places his mouth couldn’t reach. 

“I’m gonna come,” Derek moans. Stiles opens his eyes and a moan escapes the back of his throat, vibrating against Derek’s dick. Derek throws his head back as he comes down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swallows what he could and spits the rest out, causing it to spill down his chest. They both lay there panting before Derek sits up and reaches to pull Stiles’ boxers down, “Gotta help you now.” Stiles looks at him with wide eyes before Derek flips him around and pulls his boxers off. “On your knees.” Stiles quickly obliges and goes on his knees. “I’m gonna finger you alright?” Stiles nods and moans as Derek slips in a finger. 

He moves it in and out of Stiles’ ass, listening to Stiles incoherently moan Derek’s name. “More.” Stiles gasps out. Derek nods and slips in another finger, moaning at the same time. Then he adds a third after Stiles asks for more. “I need you in me.” Stiles opens his eyes to look behind him. 

“Are you sure?”

“Fucking positive. Condoms are in the nightstand.” Derek quickly reaches over and grabs one, rolling it on his dick.

Derek flips him around once again, “Then I wanna see your face.” Derek places Stiles’ legs on his shoulder and aligns his dick with Stiles’ open ass. He slowly thrusts into Stiles, causing Stiles to throw his head back and moan his name. “Tell me when to move.”

“Move, move, move.” Stiles mutters and grasps the bed sheets. Derek slightly pulls out before thrusting back in. Stiles and Derek are panting as Derek continues to thrust into Stiles, getting faster each time. “I’m gonna come.” Stiles whispers. Derek whispers a ‘me too’ before come shoots out of Stiles’ dick. After 3 more thrusts, Derek comes into the condom. He continues thrusting slowly in and out of a breathless Stiles before he pulls out, making Stiles whimper at the emptiness. Derek slipped off the condom and tied it before standing up to throw it out in the trashcan near Stiles’ desk. 

He walked into Stiles’ bathroom and grabbed a towel to rinse under the water. He cleaned himself off with the towel and rinsed it again to clean Stiles. He went back into the room to find Stiles laying there with his eyes closed. “I’m gonna wipe the come off you now, okay?” Derek softly said. Stiles gave him a nod as Derek wiped his come off his chest. 

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand before he could pull away. He opened his eyes and took the rag, throwing it on the floor. “Lay with me.” 

Derek nodded and laid beside Stiles. Stiles turned to face Derek’s chest and wrapped his arms around him, Derek doing the same. He closed his eyes, feeling tired. Stiles whispered, “I wanna stay like this forever.”

Derek gave a small nod, “Me too.” 

They laid there in silence, listening to each other's breathing and heart beat. Soon after, Stiles’ breathing evened out as he fell asleep. Derek kissed the top of his head before falling asleep as well. 

-

Stiles woke up the next morning feeling warmer than usual. He woke up in the same position from when he fell asleep. Derek was quietly snoring beside him with the sun shining across his naked body. Stiles took in his view and broke out into a small grin.  _ He’s so beautiful.  _ Stiles carefully unlatched himself from Derek and slipped out of bed. He walked into his bathroom and took a piss, brushed his teeth and stepped into the shower. 

After he got out, he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked back into his room and Derek was still sleeping. He grinned once again and put on his clothes; boxers, jeans, t-shirt, and flannel. He picked up the rag from the floor and threw it in the laundry basket. He made his way downstairs and began cooking waffles for him and Derek. 

He turned on his music and sang along as he mixed the batter and yelped when he saw Derek sitting at the counter with a fond smile on his face. He seemed freshly showered and dressed in a dark blue henley with jeans. “Good morning.” Stiles smiled before turning back around to pour the batter into the waffle maker. He lowered the music volume so he could hear Derek.

“Morning.” Derek replied, “Do you need any help?” 

Stiles waved his hand, “Nope. All good.” He cut up some strawberries and placed them on a plate. He flipped the waffle iron and waited for the light to turn off. He continued to do this with 4 more waffles and placed them evenly on 2 separate plates. He took out some nutella and maple syrup and placed them on the kitchen island. He also poured out coffee for both of them. “Enjoy.” 

They ate together in silence before Stiles spoke up, “You know, you’re like a personal heater to sleep next to.” 

Derek choked on his waffle and started coughing. He took a sip of his coffee. “Sorry.” 

Stiles giggled, “It’s fine. Kinda nice.” Derek’s cheeks turned pink. “Hey, I have to go into the station for a little bit- but you can go around the town and check it out. I really just want to spend your last day with you but one of the interns messed up some paperwork and lost it so I have to fill it out again. I mean another deputy can do it but he already has so many things to do and we’re running low on-” Stiles rambled.

“It’s fine, Stiles.” Derek cut him off. “I’d love to check out the town. Don’t worry about it.” 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief and they continued to eat their breakfast. 

  
-

“I’ll be quick I promise.” Stiles gave a frown. He really wanted to spend the day with Derek; that was the whole point of him taking two days off. 

“It’s fine Stiles, take your time.” Derek gave him a reassuring smile. 

Stiles nodded and slipped on his shoes. He kissed Derek on the lips one more time before leaving out the door. 

-

After spending practically 3 hours watching Scrubs, Derek walked into the kitchen to make some lunch. He looked around and saw some bread and checked the fridge for ham and lettuce. Of course there was. He took them out and made himself a sandwich. He frowned as it wasn’t that good compared to what he ate the previous day. It was sad to say that he missed Stiles’ cooking How will he survive living off Chinese until the next time he sees Stiles? 

A few minutes later, Stiles burst through the door mumbling angrily, then screaming, “I’M GONNA FIRE SOMEONE, I SWEAR TO GOD.” 

Derek looked up from his sandwich and jumps at the shake of the house after Stiles slammed the door that made some of the lettuce slip out the sandwich, “What’s going on?”

“I was really looking forward to spending today with you; but now you have 3 more hours before you have to leave.” Stiles made his way over to Derek looked down with a frown on his face.

Derek pulled Stiles down into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, “We have next time.” 

“Do you want a next time?” Stiles asked nervously. 

Derek froze and loosened his grip of Stiles, “I-I thought- yeah?”

Stiles almost snapped his head to face Derek and broke into the biggest smile, “Good. I wasn’t sure because today was just a bust.” 

Derek gave him a squeeze one more time, taking in his scent this time, “It wasn’t a bust, I had a good time.” 

“Good.” 

-

For the next few hours they just laid together on the sofa. Their hands were grasped together as Stiles rose them up to examine Derek’s hands. His arm hair stops before it reaches the hand. His fingernails were cut short but it was smooth, unlike Stiles’ bitten nails. He could see Derek’s veins slightly pop out and the bones leading up to his fingers. Meanwhile, Derek was counting the moles on Stiles’ face. He counted 20. He studied Stiles’ face. How his nose was pointy. His upper lip was slightly smaller than his bottom. They both laid there, enjoying each other's presence while they can as they wouldn’t be able to touch each other until the next time they can see each other. Stiles looked up at the clock and frowned. It was time for Derek to leave for the airport. 

“I don’t want you to go.” Stiles whispered and brought Derek’s hand to his lips. He kissed it and rubbed Derek’s hand with his thumb.” 

“I don’t want to go either.” Derek paused, “But I have to.” 

Stiles sighed and sat up, releasing their hands. “I know. Quantico needs you.” 

Derek frowned and sat up. He kissed Stiles on the cheek, “I’ll be back next time I get a day off. I promise.” Stiles nods and stands up to get Derek’s bags loaded into the car. He stops when Derek grabs his hand. “In the meantime, will you be my boyfriend?” 

Stiles freezes before he quickly nods with a big smile on his face and captures Derek’s lips in his. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” He breaks their kiss but his forehead is still touching Derek’s. 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Derek kisses him one more time before pulling away. “Now, let’s go get my bags.”


	3. Mexico

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another episode but this time inspired by Ried and Maeve bc they deserved better.

Derek arrives at the conference table a few minutes earlier than planned. He leans back in his chair, sighs and looks around the room. The FBI logo is slowly moving across the projector screen, the clock is ticking in the background, he could hear the coffee drip into the coffee pot. Usually this doesn’t bother him, but today it really wanted Derek to block all of his senses. He grunts at the silence and pulls out his phone. 

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Hey- ‘morning.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ r u kidding me- it’s 6 am Derek.  _

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Oh.. Time difference.  _

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ I’ll leave you alone then _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ no- you woke me up. ur stuck with me now. _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ don’t do it ever again. or i’ll cut you. _

Derek snuffles a laugh, which he covers with a cough as he hears Jackson walk in.

“What’s so funny?” Jackson asks as he sits in his chair, coffee mug in hand. No one in this team can start their day without coffee. No one. 

Derek turns his phone off and flips it down on the table so he can’t see the screen, “Nothing.” Jackson raises an eyebrow but shrugs it off as everyone else starts to shuffle in with their cups of coffee in hand as well. 

Lydia walks into the room with a case file, laptop, and her projector remote, along with two cups of coffee she gets everyday for herself and Derek. She hands him the coffee which he thanks her for and she sets up in the front of the room. She connects the projector to her laptop and flicks off the lights. “Well my friends, you are heading to Mexico.” She clicks her remote, a picture of the latest victim appears along with crime scene photos, “Our unsub is taking right legs.” She clicks the remote again, showing stitching made at the knee, “Our latest victim is Tony Anders- he was dumped at a local motel.” 

Derek’s phone starts to buzz 3 times at once, making everyone in the room to snap their heads towards his direction. He whispers a sorry and puts his phone away in his pocket. Lydia continues to stare at Derek, “He’s in surgery now but he looks like he’s gonna pull through.” Derek gives her a little shrug before looking down at his hands. Lydia eyes him for a bit and continues to present the case to the rest of the team, “The first victim, not so lucky. Richard Hubbell. He died during the leg absconding process.” She clicks the button, and a profile picture of Richard appeared on the screen- along with his decayed body next to it. “His body was dumped just over the border in Juarez, Mexico.” 

The team began asking questions about the case, Lydia answering them the best that she can but Derek continues to stay quiet. It was taking all of the strength that he had to not take out his phone and check the messages. It kept buzzing in his pocket once in awhile, but he knew each of them was from Stiles. It’s not like he texts anyone else. 

“Wheels up in ‘30.” Chris announces and dismisses everyone from the conference table. 

_ Shit. I wasn’t paying attention.  _ Derek sighs to himself and stands up to leave the room. He settles himself down at his desk and pulls out his phone to check the messages. 

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ oh so now ur ignoring me?  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ after u woke me up at 6? _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ take responsibility u bastard  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ ok i just got to work and guess what- i got placed on reception duty. I’m a detective for gods sake.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ I just answered a call saying their child is dying but it turns out it was a knocked over bucket. I stg these people drive the police department insane.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ oh shit ur probably in a meeting- haha- sorry. _

Derek has a small smile on his face while reading the texts and snorts a laugh at the bucket story. He texts back,

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Yeah I was in a meeting- don’t worry about it. But that bucket story is hilarious.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ I had to file him for a disturbance- apparently he went knocking at neighbor’s doors asking for help because his child was dying but when they ran in to help, it was just a bucket on the floor.  _

Derek lets out another snort. 

“What ‘ya laughing at?” Lydia leans over Derek’s shoulder and sticks her face near his phone. He jumps in surprise and shuts his phone off. 

“Nothing,” He swallows and slips his phone in his pocket. 

Lydia narrows her eyes at him, “You know I can hack into your phone right?” 

He scowls at her, “That’s violating privacy.”

She throws her head back and laughs, “Honey, we work for the FBI. We make a living by violating privacy.” He shakes his head at her and bends down to pick up his overnight bag from underneath his desk. This case will probably take a few nights. “Anyways, we’re leaving in like 5 minutes.” He nods his head as she walks away and pulls his phone back out after checking if she was surely gone. 

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ this day is going soooooooooooo sloowwwwwwww :(. entertain me Derek. (unless you’re working on a case then go do ur thang boo)  _

Derek laughs through his nose and types out a quick reply before picking up his bag and out to the team jet. 

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Case, sorry.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ good luck! (thumbs up emoji)  _

-

The team has been working on this Mexico case for 5 days and they still can’t completely profile the unsub. The victims started out as men, but now progressed to women, seeing no connection at all in victimology. He’s been taking legs from previous victims and sewing them on another, trying to experiment with the human body. They figured he must have had some sort of medical knowledge but some of the stitchings are now seemed as rushed and sloppy. However, his stitchwork are very similar to how morticians stitch up bodies. And he’s been dumping the body at random sites, making is unsure where this unsub’s comfort zone is. The team is starting to get tired of the case. The unsub is clearly not showing himself anytime soon, nor slowing down. They’re missing something. Just can’t understand what.

The team is sitting in the conference room that the police department in Mexico set up for them at their station, at 2:30 in the morning, hanging on their 3rd cup of coffee. They go over the case file one more time. Scott groans and throws his head back, “We got to be missing something here.” 

Derek is tapping his pen against the table and his face is scrunched up in seriousness. He rubs his hands over his face and stands up, “I’ll be back.” 

He exits the room and pulls out his phone. He and Stiles haven’t talked since Derek left Quantico for the case. He’s always too busy to answer calls and texts from Stiles during the case and Stiles allows him to have his time to do his work. He dials Stiles’ number. 

_ “Derek?” _

“Hey Stiles”

_ “I’m all up for your calls but 12 am Derek? Really? Last time it was 6 am.”  _

“Sorry.”

_ *sigh* “It’s alright Derek. I missed your voice.”  _ Derek’s heart skips a beat. When did he become so whipped? _ “Anyways- what’s up? Did you finish the case?” _

It’s Derek’s turn to sigh, “No. That’s why I called you actually- Fresh pair of eyes because everyone is clawing theirs out over here.” 

_ “Yeah, yeah, sure, how can I help?”  _ Derek could hear the rustling of Stiles’ covers.

“Ok so our unsub is taking right legs off victims and sewing them up on another person’s leg.” Stiles makes a choked sound at the bluntness but Derek continues and tells him what they’ve found out about the unsub so far. They suspect that he was his own rig, and he’s a middle class man who has a big enough space to practice his experiments on. Stiles carefully listens as Derek continues, “At first I just thought he was taking whoever’s available-”

“But he’s running on bloodmobile.” 

“Yes-Thank you, exactly. That’s not an accident. He’s obviously using it as a cover to screen for something and that’s why I’m calling you.” Derek hears Stiles shuffle in the background, “I’m hoping that you can help me figure out what he’s screening for.” 

“Ok hold on- so he has a god complex, think’s he’s perfect- what if he’s an amputee? He’s trying to fix his condition himself?” Derek hears a marker scribble across a board. He’s guessing it’s the clear one that was sitting in the corner of Stiles’ room. “Scratch that.” Stiles writes some more. “You know, what you just described to me reminds me of Josef Mengele.”

“Yeah, we looked doubling into the profile.” Derek nods.

“No- I mean Mengele’s experiments on twins.” Derek froze as Stiles continues, “He operated on thousands of twins, why?”

“I- don’t know, actually.” 

Stiles stops writing in the background. “He thought he could repopulate Germany faster if he could figure out a way to get women to conceive with multiple embryos.”   
“So you think this guy’s pursuing his own impossible cause?”

“What if he’s not trying to fix himself- but somebody else?”

Derek pauses for a moment, taking in all of the information, “Ok ok. So, before he transplants, he makes them into amputees first. That’s part of his experiment. What if, there’s a condition the victim shares? Something involving amputation?” 

“Mmm-yeah, but I thought about that and it doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t screen for that genetically.” 

“Unless it’s congenital. Something that caused the amputation in utero?”

“The way thalidomide caused birth effects in pregnant moms.” Stiles adds.

“Exactly, so the question is, what else causes birth defects?” 

“Well that’s a long list- chromosomal, fetal alcohol syndrome..” Stiles trails on. Derek could now hear him pace back and forth in his room.

“What if we just focused on the ones that causes limb deformities specifically?” 

Stiles lets out a tired yawn, “Uhhh… Rubella, herpes, among others. Herpes is the most common but it isn’t screened for when you donate blood.”   
“But there are a lot of different strains of herpes. Like… Chickenpox, for example. If a mother isn’t inoculated and she passes that virus in utero, can’t that cause birth defects?” 

“Yeah…” Stiles trails out before gasping, “It can lead to limb hypoplasia.”   
It clicks in Derek’s brain, “The binding of which would appear similar to amputation.”

“But if it’s the condition in the mother, why operate in the men the first 3 times?” 

He thinks about the question before it hits him, “Those were trial runs. Now that he’s operating on women, he thinks he’s found the answer.” He rushes out, “I have to go.” 

“Good luck Der.”

“Thanks for the help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Thank me when you come visit me next weekend. Then maybe I’ll forgive you for waking me up at 6 am and 12 am.” 

Derek stifles a laugh, “Alright, bye.”

He rushes back into the conference room. “I have something, get Lydia on the phone.” Isaac and Scott jumps up from their seats and scrambles to get the phone. 

“What do you have?” Chris stands next to Derek as he waits for Lydia to pick up the phone. 

“Chickenpox.” Everyone turns their heads to each other and scrunches their eyebrows in confusion. 

“What do you got for me my loves?” Lydia’s voice rings through the speakerphone.

Derek leans closer to the phone and props his elbows against the table, “Lydia, do you have the list of morticians in the area?”

“Of course.” 

“Alright, isolate the married ones.” Lydia types away into the database, doing what Derek is telling her to do. “We’re looking for limb deformities in the wife caused by chickenpox.” Scott snaps his fingers with an awed look on his face and pats Derek on the back. Everyone else is impressed by Derek but still listening. 

“Huh, well that’s as narrow as it gets.” Lydia snorts but continues typing, “Got it. Linda Nelson. Married to John Nelson. Quit his job at the funeral home two months ago. Sending the address now.” 

Derek looks up at Chris who nods at him with a serious face, “Thanks Lyds.” and they hang up. 

“Derek, Jackson and Peter, go bring him in for questioning.” Chris nods towards the door. 

-

They close up the case by entering John Nelson’s home ready to take him in for questioning. The house was cleared except for the garage behind the house that had lights flashing in them. Derek nods his head to the garage and pulls out his gun. He holds it with his right hand as he holds a flashlight in his other, placing the right across the left. Jackson and Peter follow his lead but go around to the other exits. 

Derek bursts down the door, “FBI. Drop the scalpel.” Mr. Nelson was in the corner with his hands up but a girl in a hospital down is holding Mrs. Nelson with a scalpel by her throat. “Drop it.” Derek yells as he keeps his stance and moves closer. Jackson and Peter make their way in pointing their guns at Mr. Nelson while Derek had his on the girl. 

The girl drops the scalpel and in that moment, Mr. Nelson attempts to grab a syringe to stab the girl in the neck. However, Jackson and Peter both shoot at him, causing him to drop the needle and fall back in pain. They drop their guns and Derek runs to check up on the victim. Both the girl and Mrs. Nelson are in tears, hysterically crying and Mrs. Nelson is trying to reach for her husband. “We need a medic in here. Now.” Derek yells through the walkie-talkie. “How’s Mr. Nelson doing?”

“Not good.” Peter tries to sit him up, “Losing blood.” 

“Where’s my medic?” Derek yells once again.

-

The team made their way back to Quantico the next night, after spending the morning filling out paperwork and interviewing Mr. Nelson. Derek sat in his usual seat, phone in hand, waiting for Stiles to text back.

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Solved the case thanks to you. Latest victim is in the hospital, removing the leg he sewed on her. _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ glad to hear. going home now? _

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Yeah. I can’t wait to just get back in my bed.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ me everyday :P. call me when u land.  _

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ Alright, goodnight.  _

**_From Stiles:_ **

_ night <3 _

Derek’s heart thumped and ears reddened before he sent, 

**_To Stiles:_ **

_ <3  _

_ - _

“Out with it.” Lydia slammed her hands on Derek’s desk as he was packing up his files to go home. 

He raises his eyebrow at her before looking back down to continue packing his bag, “Out with what?”

“Out with the weirdness, and the secrecy.” Lydia stops his hands. Derek looks up at her, “Scott told me about how you left and you were talking on the phone for quite a while before you came storming in with the answers to the case.” 

Derek shrugged, “I got a consultation, what’s the big deal?” 

Lydia let go of his hands and places them on her hips, “Derek. It was practically 3 in the morning. You left that conference room and came back with a major break. Now that’s one hell of a consult.”

Derek thins his lips and nods, “Hmm. It was.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder, “Bye Lydia.” 

Before Derek can walk away, she tilts her head and stops him by placing a hand on his chest. She gives a small but hard shove, making Derek fall back in his chair. She tilts her head to the other side and sighs, “Alright, you don’t wanna talk? That’s fine. But listen.” Her hard face softens, “Derek, you’re my bestfriend. Well at least I count you as mine, I’m hoping you count me as yours.” Derek gives her a nod, as to say ‘of course’. “But I feel like you and I haven’t had a chance to talk to each other in a while. Look, if you got somebody new in your life to talk to, I’d just like to know who she/he is.” Derek bites down on his bottom lip to prevent a smile, but fails so he looks down instead. Lydia gives him a crinkle-eyed smile, “Because they’ve got to be one hell of a person to put up with you.” 

Derek still has a small smile on his face, making his dimples show, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Lydia laughs, “Uh-huh.” She helps Derek back up and walks away making kissy sounds while laughing. 

Derek scoffs a laugh and drop his head down. He shakes his head and looks back up to leave the building. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also- guess where the title of this work is from. Whoever gets it right can create a lil prompt about what should happen in this Stiles and Derek world.
> 
> Hint: Its a lyric from a musical


End file.
